Flawed
by Speakfire
Summary: The apple touches Robert's foot and...." An introspective on some of the events as they occur in the movie after Giselle bites into the apple


Dlsclaimer - Enchanted and the characters from the movie do not belong to me, but to Disney and a bunch of people who have a lot more money than I do. I am not making money from this story, it is purely for entertainment, and please don't sue me since I am so broke that I can't pay attention.

A/N This is kind of my version of what is going through Robert's head during the climax of the movie. The very end is my own little epilogue that 'ties things together'.

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Something bumped the side of his boot, and Robert bent down to pick it up.

It was a large apple, glorious glossy red, reflecting the lighting in the ball room on the smooth skin. Robert had never seen an apple so perfectly red, perfectly round, and perfectly unblemished. It looked like it belonged on the cover of _Bon Appetit _magazine, as though it'd been plucked from a still life painting.

He marveled at its simplicity, its perfection, turning it in his hand until he discovered the flaw. A single bite marred the brilliant red skin, leaving jagged torn edges where teeth had pierced the surface, breaking into the pearlescent white juicy flesh beneath.

Robert stared at it uncomprehendingly. Who would take a single bite of such a marvelous piece of fruit, and no more? Unless the perfection of this apple extended only as far as the flawless surface. From the outside, it appeared to be an apple without equal. Yet one bite taken from it had apparently revealed the true quality of the fruit, and that single taste apparently had been bad enough that the apple was discarded without care, as not even worthy of taking a second bite from.

Beyond the apple, Nancy caught his eye as she turned her head to look around, trying to figure out exactly where the apple came from.

Looking from the piece of fruit to Nancy, Robert suddenly realized how flawed his life truly was. He'd convinced himself that his relationship with Nancy were exactly what he wanted in life. It was organized and logical, with set rules and boundaries. It was a relationship developed on recognition of the strengths and weaknesses of both. _Sam was right, _he ruefully thought to himself. It did sound like he was building a bridge.

From the outside, everything had looked as perfect (well, in as much as the life of a New Yorker can be perfect) as this apple had looked to the farmer who grew it. But on the inside, there was no flavor. It was bland and rather boring, and he was honest enough to admit to himself that he had tasted more of life in the past two days with Giselle (had he really sang to her? He never sang out loud, not even to Morgan!) than he had in the entire five years he'd shared with Nancy.

Robert gestured Nancy toward the buffet tables to dispose of the apple, but as they were walking off the dance floor, a panicked voice broke through the lilting music playing in the ballroom.

"Someone! Help me, please!"

It was the foppishly dressed Prince Edward who cradled a clearly unconscious Giselle to his chest that had called out, and some of the ball's organizers quickly supplied a chaise longue to rest her on. Something was very wrong.

"Oh no," Robert breathed and then hurriedly withdrew his Blackberry from his jacket to shove into Nancy's startled hands. "Call 9-1-1!" he ordered as they rushed up the stairs.

Reaching her side, Robert knelt and took Giselle's small pale hand in his as Nancy spoke to the 9-1-1 emergency responder. Her skin was cool to the touch, and he lifted his hand to gently brush her hair back from her forehead. He could tell she was breathing steadily, but she was so pale and still. Even when she was asleep, Giselle was never this motionless. She smiled and sighed and wiggled contentedly against the cushions on his couch, her cheerful nature coming through even in slumber.

A strikingly attractive and ornately dressed woman with a spidery silver headdress was trying to explain Giselle's condition, "Oh, well, she fainted, but she'll be fine…"

Her words were interrupted by a new voice that broke in, stating firmly, "No, she didn't." The speaker was a familiar looking heavy-set man, and Robert suddenly realized that he'd met this man on two other occasions. The first had been in Central Park, where he'd spoken with an atrocious Slavic accent, and then again in the Belle Notte restaurant, when he'd been imitating an Italian accent, complete with dyed hair and a mustache.

The woman stiffened with surprise, her eyes widening as she glared daggers at the man, commanding, "Nathaniel, get back to the car."

"I will not," Nathaniel stated firmly, and lifted a hand to point at her, "You poisoned her."

"Ha!" The woman's laugh was derisive and dismissive, but did nothing to dispel the hint of nervousness that accompanied it.

The man Nathaniel continued, gesturing at the woman for emphasis as he looked beseechingly toward a clearly stunned Edward, "She's the evil hag, sire! She sent the girl here, she poisoned her!.."

Edward turned his attention from Nathaniel to the dark eyes of the woman, his expression shocked and betrayed. "You did this?"

Nathaniel's face twisted with self-disgust and shame, his eyes begging Edward for forgiveness as he brokenly admitted, "With my help, I regret to say…"

Suddenly everything clicked into place, and Robert stared at the apple he still held in his hand. The previous times he'd seen the disguised Nathaniel, he'd been trying to persuade Giselle to try a caramel apple, and then an apple martini. Both had been poisoned in the same manner as the apple he held in his hand, but for various reasons, she'd never actually sampled them. Now he knew who had taken the single bite missing from this apple.

"Oh, he's lying, darling," the woman was saying in a condescending tone to Edward. "Why would I ever align myself with that buffoon? I mean think about it, why…"

Edward's sharp voice cut through her words like a knife, "Silence!" For the first time, the young man truly seemed like a prince instead of a pompous prig. Furiously, he swore, "You lying, murderous wretch! When we return home, all of Andalasia shall know of your treachery. Your days as queen will be over!"

"Take my throne?" The Queen couldn't seem to believe Edward had the gall to make such a threat. But she tried to smooth her words with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Don't you think that's a bit melodramatic, dear?"

"I don't know what melodramatic means," Edward confessed before vowing, "but you will be removed from the throne forever, Narissa. I will see to it." She hissed in fury, causing him to recoil briefly, but his face was set with determination. Turning away from the Queen, the Prince again knelt beside the chaise longue and Giselle.

As Robert and Edward again focused their attention on the unconscious woman, Narissa began to wiggle her fingers while muttering in some foreign language, but Nathaniel quickly picked up the Prince's sword and held it to her neck threateningly. "That's enough from you, you viper," he growled with hatred.

"We have to help her. What can we do?" Edward asked helplessly, looking at Robert for suggestions.

Robert was taken aback by the question. As if he had a clue? This whole situation was beyond his comprehension. Royal balls, old hags, poisonous apples, twisted and evil queens… it was like something straight of Morgan's fairy tale stories. "I don't know, what do we do?" he directed the question toward Nathaniel. The heavier man had known the true nature of the apple, perhaps he knew a way to cure the poison.

His hopes were dashed by Nathaniel's regretful head shake. "There's no way to help her… she's done for," he replied sadly, as Narissa smirked.

Stricken, Robert gazed down at Giselle. This wasn't supposed to be how it ended. Fairy tales just didn't end like this, with the princess fading away in a lifeless slumber for all eternity. They always had happy endings, happily ever afters. The prince always came along and… Realization dawned, and he whispered, "True love's kiss."

Queen Narissa's expression turned to one of chagrin.

Edward blinked, "What?"

"It's the most powerful thing in the world," Robert softly echoed the words Giselle had spoken to him the first night they had met, staring down at her face.

"Yes! Yes, of course!" Edward exclaimed, rising to his feet to come around to Robert's side of the recliner. Rather sheepishly, he said, "I knew that."

And for the first time in his life, Robert wanted nothing more than to be the prince in those fairy tale stories, stories he had ridiculed and detested for so many years, especially following the betrayals of his first wife. If his life as a divorce lawyer and single father had taught him anything at all, it was that there were no 'Happily Ever Afters'.

Yet he still wanted to be the one to kiss her, to taste her lips, to dispel the apple's poison and to truly share True Love's First Kiss and Happily Ever After with Giselle, with the woman who's optimism, hope, and sincerity had somehow managed to chip away at the hard walls he'd spent years erecting around his heart.

For the briefest moment, he selfishly entertained the thought of making that dream of his come true, and leaned down slightly toward Giselle's beautiful face. But then Edward was beside him, and Robert forced himself up and out of the Prince's way. _Even if you had kissed her, nothing would have happened_, he ruthlessly told himself. After all, Giselle herself had told him on numerous occasions that Prince Edward was her true love.

Edward bent his head to press a kiss to Giselle's cold lips, and Robert forced himself to watch. He could not suppress the jealousy he felt, but at the same time he wanted nothing more than for the kiss to work, for Giselle to sit up and sing one of her ridiculously happy songs that proclaimed her love for Edward for the whole world to hear.

But nothing happened. The Prince kissed her again, harder this time, and then again and again, but the beautiful young woman remained as still as death. "It's not working!!" Edward cried out, frantic.

The clock began to toll. They were running out of time.

Narissa realized it as well, and began to cackle with glee. "You'll never save her now," she smugly informed them. "When the clock strikes twelve, she'll be dead."

Edward was dismayed as he looked down at Giselle's lips. It should have worked. True love's kiss always worked, and he'd kissed her and he had to be her true love… "Unless…"

"Unless?" Robert echoed, looking at Edward in confusion. Was it supposed to take this long for the kiss to wake her up? He'd always imagined it to be a rather instantaneous thing. The prince kisses the sleeping beauty, and then she wakes up.

Edward was just staring at him expectantly, and though his words remained unspoken, they clearly hung in the air. _Unless you_, _Robert, are her true love._

Shaken, Robert shook his head, his words tumbling over each other, "It's not me. It couldn't be me. I barely know her, I've only known her for about two days…"

"It has to be," Edward gently said, ruefully shaking his head at the other man, his blue eyes almost sad. In the background, the clock still chimed. He got to his feet and hurried over to Robert's side, taking the other man by the arm and pushing him toward Giselle. "Don't you see?"

Almost impatiently, Nancy broke in, "Kiss her, Robert!" As both men stared at her with surprise, she mustered a reassuring but genuine smile. "It's ok."

Robert inhaled slowly as Edward nodded encouragingly at him, and then returned to Giselle's side. He stared down at her lovely face, tenderly pressing the back of his hand to her cold cheek, and admitted to himself for the first time that no matter how illogical or impossible their relationship was, he really did love Giselle, the way he had never loved another woman. He had never even realized it was possible to love someone this much.

The ballroom was utterly silent, the onlookers clearly enthralled by the events taking place before them as the clock counted down the last remaining seconds before midnight.

If this really were one of Morgan's fairy tale stories, Robert knew he would probably be singing some sappy love song, or making some declaration of love that would last for all eternity. But as he regarded Giselle's still form, all he could think to say were the words that he had truly wanted to say from the moment that Prince Edward had shown up at the door to take her away from him and Morgan forever.

"Please, don't leave me," Robert whispered, and bent down to kiss her with all the love in his heart.

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A couple of hours later, Robert smiled and cuddled Giselle closer to him. Giselle was alive, so was he, the rain had finally stopped and the Queen was dead (assuming that shattering into a million glittery pieces signified death of course). Granted, things still weren't quite at 'Happily Ever After' yet, given the fact they were still stuck on the roof of the 57-story tall Woolworth Building awaiting rescue, but they weren't in imminent danger either, so long as they stayed still at least.

A police helicopter circled near and swept a spotlight over the damaged portions of the skyscraper before alighting on them. Robert and Giselle waved at them, to indicate they were physically alright, and received a 'thumbs up' in response.

It hovered there, apparently intending to keep them in the spotlight until a rescue chopper arrived. Robert hugged Giselle, saying reassuringly, "Don't worry, they'll get us down from here in no time."

She sighed with contentment, leaning against him. "I'm not worried. I'm happy. This is the happiest day of my whole life." Giselle tilted her head up so her blue eyes could meet his and smiled.

Robert couldn't help a chuckle escaping him, "I can't believe I'm saying it, but yeah, it's mine too," as he brushed a kiss to her forehead.

They were quiet for a long moment, and then Robert finally spoke. "Giselle, may I ask you something?"

Giselle shifted her head slightly away from his shoulder to regard him with surprise, "Of course! You can ask me anything you want."

"It's about the apple," he said hesitantly, and his arms tightened in a hug as she shuddered at the memory of that bite. "What did it taste like?"

Her brow furrowed as she thought back, Giselle considered the question as she again rested her cheek on his shoulder. "Actually it was surprisingly tasteless. I mean, yes, it was poisoned but apparently that didn't effect the taste at all. You'd think that it'd be bitter, or sour, or even super sweet. But really it had almost no flavor to it at all." Tilting her chin, she pointed out, "Even so, the apple was almost perfect to look at, wasn't it?" Giselle could find a silver lining behind any dark cloud.

Robert nodded knowingly, "Yes, it was."


End file.
